Watercolors
by Shippostail
Summary: How does a case of watercolors disappear after a minute?


**Disclaimer - I do not own Inuyasha.**

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A young boy, who looked to be at about the age of twelve years, probably nearing thirteen, paced back and forth near the river in worry. He was the only one in the village, apart from Inuyasha, whose hair color wasn't black, brown, or an aging gray; his was a fiery red. He was also the only one with a foxtail. You couldn't miss him. However, it was futile for anyone to try and get his attention, for he was in deep concentration, his eyes darting around everywhere. He seemed to be in search of something.

"I swore I left them here." He searched around the tree, in the tree's branches, and in the bird's nest, where he received quite a few quick sharp jabs at the head. He sighed in frustration and plopped himself on the ground.

"How does a case of watercolors disappear after a minute?" You see, the boy had a bit too much to drink and you know…nature called. But, he wouldn't let anyone know that. It was only a minute. It would've been shorter, but he had to find a nice big bush—for privacy. He was going through puberty and well, nothing more needs to be said.

He downright refused to bathe with the two women in his life when they offered because he was too embarrassed—much to the monk's disappointment and jealousy. They apparently think he's still a little boy. But no, he was no longer a boy, for he was becoming a man. Couldn't they see that he was a lot taller now? Perhaps they've grown too accustomed in having him tag along in their bathing sessions.

Then he heard it—a rustling of leaves. Someone was here. And that someone probably has his watercolors! And so, he followed the sound. But he made sure to stay on the down low. He wanted to see who his thief was. The sounds of rustling leaves soon came to an end and he was able to see his thief stand in a clearing.

"Aw." He whined. The thief was hooded! He should've just pounced on him when he got the chance. He quickly shut his mouth when he heard the hooded thief gasp and made a run for it—his watercolors at hand. So he chased him down.

"Wait! Give that back to me!" The young fox boy yelled after him. But the thief continued to run. His disappointment continued to escalate after seeing the thief jump onto a cloud and fly away. But no, The Great Shippo would not give up. Never. So he kept running, no matter how tiring it was. By the time the thief stopped, the boy looked like he was near death, panting for air. He didn't dare think about how long and far he ran. He just wanted his watercolors back. He switched back to discrete mode, spying on the thief. Good. He didn't know he was followed.

Upon entering the castle (through the window), much to his surprise, he noticed that everything was—expensive looking. Why would someone need to steal if he were—well, rich? He then gave himself a few knocks on the head for thinking up a stupid question. Of course the thief would steal his watercolors. He was the only one in this era to have them!

He took a few moments to take in the view of his surroundings as he walked through the corridors in search of the thief. And, he was astounded—to put it more strongly, he was freaked out. On the walls were framed drawn pictures—of him—in crayon. Pictures—of him. There were pictures of him in his younger days, a picture of him in an inner tube in the hot springs, a picture of him with his mouth full of food, there was a picture of him smirking and looking cool.

The deeper he delved in, the older he got. It's as if the pictures were a timeline of his life. He encountered this one picture that was in a large gold frame where he was an adult—probably the person's favorite. He shuddered. Who was this person? Was he a psychic? He had to admit though. He looked good. Another shudder ran through his body. Maybe he should leave.

His thoughts were too engrossed in the freakiness of the situation to notice the hooded thief walking towards him. Neither did the thief see the young boy for his head was down. The fox boy was finally brought back to earth when they crashed into each other and fall on their butts onto the floor.

"H-hey! Where are my watercolors?" The fox boy questioned with a new found courage. He received no answer. Instead the hooded thief collected a ball of electricity in his hand and shot it straight towards the young fox boy. The fox boy barely had time to move out of the way.

"Fine! We'll duel to the death for it!" The young fox boy cried in anger. He was confident he would win easily. He was older, and therefore he was stronger.

"Fox fire!" The fox boy yelled. The thief gasped as the intense blue flame enveloped him and he rolled furiously on the ground, desperately trying to put it out. But, the fire was too strong and the thief was forced to remove the robe. Shippo was surprised to find that the thief was no boy at all. The thief was a she.

"Watch it! You could've killed me!" The girl yelled at him.

"You were asking for it! Now where are my watercolors?" The fox boy retaliated. Shippo examined the girl's face closely. She looked really familiar.

"W-wait. Souten?" The girl's eyes widened at the sound of her name.

"I haven't seen you in a long time!" The boy grinned. The girl gazed up at him from the floor stupidly. Wasn't he supposed to be angry?

"Since when did you become an artist? And, why are there only pictures of me on the walls?" The boy threw questions at her.

"Uh…" She replied smartly, still in stupor. Was he really asking that question?

"Tell you what. I'll let you keep the watercolors if you give me pointers on how to draw like that. You made me look awesome!" The boy commented admiringly.

"Uh…ok." Souten decided to just go with it. Maybe he doesn't know.

"Come with me to my room. I have a nice big desk in there to work on." The girl directed, still a bit shocked. But she wanted the watercolors badly. Those crayons were now long gone and she was stuck with graphite. When the girl opened the door to her room, she gasped again.

"Wait. I need to do something real quick." She said rushing in. She quickly ran to the wall and jumped to try and reach the desired object. She didn't want him to see it.

"What do you have there in your hand?" Oh gosh he was nosy. The girl whined inwardly.

"Nothing. Just an old picture I need to throw away."

"Let me see." The girl pulled the picture away from him.

"No."

"Please." The boy pleaded with puppy eyes. The girl refused. But quickly, the frame disappeared from her hands.

"Give that back!" She cried yanking the frame back. Desperately trying to hide it from him, she smashed the frame into pieces on the ground and crumpled the picture into a tight ball.

"Aw." The boy sighed disappointedly.

"Do you want to learn or not?"

"Yes."

"Then shut up, listen, and watch." The boy obediently complied with her wishes and watched. As she drew, the boy watched in amazement. The girl was good. She was really good.

"You want to empty your mind. Don't think. Have a picture in mind—anything, and draw that." The fox boy nodded. Soon however, the boy's face began turning pink and kept getting pinker and pinker as more of the picture was revealed.

"See, that's how you do it." She looked at his blushing face and wondered what was wrong.

"Is that—are we—" The fox boy couldn't say it.

"Are we what?" The thunder girl looked back at the picture and mentally committed suicide. She subconsciously drew the same picture she was trying to hide!

"Are we kissing?"

"No! Absolutely not!" The girl quickly responded.

"If he isn't me, then who is he?" The fox boy questioned.

"He's…he's my husband!" The girl made up. Though it wasn't entirely false. She wished he were—when they were older of course.

"Then I'm your husband?" He asked. She really felt like hitting him right now. Would he just stop with the questions?

"I wouldn't mind if I was…" He said. It was her turn to imitate a tomato.

"H-huh?"

"You could be my sensei forever!" He continued enthusiastically. Her mood darkened. And, to think that he liked her.

"Is that all?" She muttered darkly. The fox boy nodded furiously and smiled. However, it turned into a frown quite quickly when he was punched in the face.

"Jerk." The girl said and threw him out of the estate.

"I didn't do anything…" Shippo mumbled in pain. Some more additional pain landed on him.

"You can have your stupid "watercolors" back. I hate you. And take your stupid pictures with you too." The thunder girl yelled with tears in her eyes and threw all the framed pictures at him. Shippo frowned feeling horrible and guilty as he tried to dodge the pointy corners of the frames. This was not good. This must be how Inuyasha feels with Kagome a lot.

"I'm sorry Souten…" He said softly, but loud enough for her to hear. She stopped her rampage of throwing at his apology.

"I'm not sure exactly what love is. But, I'm sure it's more than just any old simple crush. But I promise you…when I find what love is, I'll make it all up to you somehow." He proposed.

"Really?" He nodded.

"Then you better keep that promise Shippo, or I'll kill you!" She shrieked at him. The fox boy gulped. He collected the stack of pictures and the paint and handed them back to her.

"Thank you!" The thunder girl chimed whipping her tears away.

"N-no problem."

"You better keep your promise, or I'll hunt you down." She muttered with a killing intent dripping down every word.

"Ok-ok." Beads of sweat slid down the side of his face. She smiled.

"Ok then. Come by again sometime! Bye!" She slammed the door on his face.

"What did I get myself into?" The fox boy asked himself.

Anyway. He needed a new case of watercolors.

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**Shippostail: **Argh! I totally rushed it. Today's my birthday and I was planning to write a story about Shippo--my name sake. I think I failed though. But that's ok. It can't be any worse than having failed my first AP Economics test--definitely not a good way to start the term.


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